Get Hurt, or Get Goode
by Caseyrose18
Summary: Post LYKY. After Blackthorne's visit, Cammie finds herself leaving Gallagher's walls and going to... Blackthorne? What will happen when she sees Zach again? Find out! ZxC GxB JxL MxOC READ AND REVIEW PLEASE!


**Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Gallagher Girls Series. Ally Carter own Cammie, Zach, Bex, Macey, Liz, Jonas, Grant, ... you get the picture. I only own new characters from Blackthorne. Everything written in LYKY, CMH&HTS, DJGBHC, and OGSY belongs to Ally, not moi.**

**Enjoy!**

**R&R**

* * *

The Visitor

"Cammie! We have to be in the Grand Hall for breakfast in 2 minutes and 27 seconds and you haven't done your hair yet?" Macey said —actually, more like screamed— in my ear. I'm pretty sure my left ear drum would never be as accurate as my right again.

"Macey, it's just hair. It is fi—" I tried to tell her, but she interrupted me.

"How could you be my roommate going around and saying 'it's just hair'? Are you crazy!" she screeched, putting her hand over her heart, freaking out like any obsessed fashionista would. I waited patiently until Macey seemed to calm down. When she did, she immediately began apologizing.

"Oh Cam I'm sorry! It's just that you never know when we could have a pop quiz to go to Roseville and possibly see Josh or that Dee Dee or his friends and as an ex-girlfriend, you have to look hot and leave him upset that he broke up with you and—"

"MACEY!" I shouted; her rambling was just making me edgy and anxious; a combination I am not very fond with. "It's fine, Mace. Let's just go down to breakfast and enjoy some of Chef Louis' famous French toast and Belgian waffles. Okay?"

"_Okay_," Macey replied slowly, as if making sure she was really forgiven for freaking out. Meanwhile, Bex and Liz were silently "ignoring" our little squabble, if you could even call it that. Trying to inconspicuously pretend to not notice their surroundings doesn't help when you are a spy, because no matter how hard we try, we couldn't just ignore our instincts.

If you already have level 4 clearance, which you should have or else you should not be reading this document, you _probably _know all about what is really within the great walls of the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women.

We're a spy school —and I don't know if you can say we're like that poser James Bond (seriously, that guy is a total joke to us) — for young operatives, such as myself. All of us are trained by highly prepared CIA operatives, who of course, _do _know our secret, so we would be ready to go on real missions one day. There is another school (that I know of, Liz is still checking) though; Blackthorne.

Until last semester, I believed we were the only spy school out there. Sadly, I was mistaken, and my life was made more confusing than before the big reveal. You see, the Blackthorne Institute for Boys did an exchange with Gallagher last semester. It was supposed to be a way to get us "familiar" with who we will work with one day. But really, with covers and legends practically giving nothing away, that's not as easy as it sounds. Of course, because none of us knew about the transfer, it was a moment for the yearbooks when we were all frozen in our chairs as fifteen teenage spies waltzed into the Grand Hall.

My own _mom_ hid this from me, which left me angry and highly annoyed that I didn't figure it out sooner. I mean, the least the staff could have done was let us know we were having visitors, much less _boy_ visitors, as a heads up. And the excuse I was given was this, and I quote: "Kiddo, you and I both know that if one of you knew, you all would have in mere minutes." Courtesy of the headmistress herself. She was exactly right; if someone knew, then Tina Walters would know, and by then it wouldn't be so much of a secret. Her codename isn't "Paparazzi" for nothing.

Among these exchange students was a certain Zachary Goode. It's amazing how I am able to crack highly classified codes that enable me to hack a government database yet can't figure out a mysterious, overly-cocky boy spy. After Josh, (my civilian boyfriend), just the subject of boys made me uncomfortable. I trained so hard to let no male specimen ever distract me again in a mission. Then, of course, Zach strolled right along and made me start from scratch. And this little ominous cloud that's in his background hovering over him twenty-four seven was _really_ not helping the situation.

"CAM!" Bex interrupted my silent musing.

"What now! Is it too hard for you to understand that Macey already broke my left ear and now you want to pass it on to my right ear? Spies can't be _spies_ if they are deaf!" I replied curtly, glaring at her while rubbing my second broken ear in an hour.

"Cammie, you just zoned out for 4 minutes and 12 seconds. What were you thinking about?" Liz inquired.

"Well, I—" was _about_ to say my response, but a certain senator's daughter cut me to the chase.

"I think we all know exactly what —or should I say, _who_— she was day-dreaming about," Macey answered, winking at me.

"Hmm, is it true that a certain Blackthorne Boy is on your mind Cam?" Bex prodded.

Well, no offence to any of my friends, but how could I _not_ think about a confusing teenage spy boy who spent all of his time on the exchange to Gallagher practically stalking my every move. Not to mention how he left me hanging with a movie-style dip kiss in front of future female spies and 15 Blackthorne boys! I mean, you don't just forget that.

So of course, I lied.

"What? Bex, why would I be thinking about him? He hasn't even contacted me via anything over break. I mean, why should I care about him if he can't even call?" I was still trying to figure that one out for myself.

Bex just looked at me and smirked, as if she just read my thoughts about constantly finding myself pondering what, when, and where Zach was in the world.

"Let's just go to breakfast," I muttered.

* * *

As we walked into the Grand Hall, I glanced up at the electronic board which read what language and accent we were to speak in.

_"English - American" _it read. Sure, it seemed easy now, but I knew that after we all got back on track from the semester break, it would be harder. I mean, you try speaking in Mandarin with a Swahili accent. The first time I tried, some senior told me were weren't supposed to speak in Japanese. That just boosted up my little ego, didn't it?

Macey, Bex, Liz, and I ambled towards our table. Instantaneously, we knew something was up.

Now, it could have been that every other girl in this room was tense, waiting for another out-of-nowhere surprise visit from some ninjas or something. ( Yes, ninjas _do_ exist. Why do you think your shower is always empty right after you hear a noise from inside it?) Or the sudden anxiousness of the atmosphere may have been that someone heard that Mr. Smith's new face looked like Brad Pitt, and every girl was itching to know the truth of that statement.

Me?

I did what any good spy does best: observe. I memorized everything visible to my twenty-twenty eyesight, from the polished marble floors up to the mahogany tables and crystal chandeliers which hung from the high ceilings. My eagle eyes finally rested on the long head table and podium which in a few mere minutes would be occupied with the teachers and the headmistress, my mother. And I found what I was looking for.

An extra chair seated to the right of Patricia Buckingham's own.

And I'm pretty sure it wasn't for her cat.

* * *

We were all seated at the table when my mom walked in, and behind her, the rest of the teachers. And by teachers, I mean the type that can actually hurt more than just your grade. Still, there was no sign of the mysterious stranger. By now, the staff was seated and my mom was taking her place at the podium for the traditional "welcome back" speech.

"Women of the Gallagher Academy, who comes here?" she asked us.

We all stood up and recited back to her.

"We are the sisters of Gillian."

"Why do you come?" Mom questioned.

"To learn her skills. Honor her sword. And keep her secrets."

"To what end do you work?"

"To the cause of justice and light."

"How long will you strive?"

"For all the days of our lives." My mom smiled at us and we sat down and waited for her to speak again.

"Welcome back to the Academy, girls. I hope you all had a nice break." Yep, kicking back and watching NCIS on an old recliner while comparing its faults to real deal is definitely a great way to spend break.

My mom continued, "Last semester, we had a few surprise guests from the Blackthorne Institute. I am pleased to say that it turned out to be a very successful visit." Okay, she obviously lingered her eyes on me a little too long. "So, we will have a special guest joining us for the time being. I'm sure you all remember him from a few weeks ago. Dr. Sanders?"

On cue, the large doors at the back of the room opened, and every Gallagher girls' head swiveled toward it.

Dr. Steve sauntered in, looking straight ahead, and walked to the podium at a leisurely pace. Mom stepped aside for him to reach the microphone and began talking to us.

"Hello everyone! This may be a little uncomfortable, seeing as my boys just left your halls, but I promise I will be no trouble at all. And we will become great friends!" He beamed at us while we stared at him blankly like he was a talking dog. As was my mom and the teachers.

He just ignored us and trotted back to his seat. My mom stepped up the to the podium again.

"Um, thank you Dr. Sanders—" Dr. Steve interrupted her.

"Steve."

"Yes, as I was saying, thank you _Dr. Steve _for that. As I was saying before, Dr. Steve will be popping i on your classes for the next week or so while we get some things straightened out. Now, let us all enjoy some of Chef Louis' wonderful breakfast!"

I slowly turned away from the podium and thought about what just happened.

1. For the third semester in a row, boys have infiltrated the Academy.

2. We were going to be "checked-up" on without warning.

3. Something was going on important enough for Dr. Steve to have come back to Gallagher.

This was going to be tough.

Especially since we still didn't know what he was doing here in the first place.

* * *

**Sorry it is short, but I wanted to post this A.S.A.P. **

**R&R Please! **

**-Casey**


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